


You Can Drag Me Through Hell (If It Meant I Could Hold Your Hand)

by ctrling



Series: Phan One-Shots [9]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, High School, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Teenagers, Toxic Relationship, pastel!dan, punk!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctrling/pseuds/ctrling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan knows that he deserves better, but he loves Phil too much to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Drag Me Through Hell (If It Meant I Could Hold Your Hand)

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Follow You by Bring Me The Horizon
> 
> This isn't mean to be an accurate representation of my writing abilities, and someday soon I think I'm going to rewrite this, but I just really wanted to put this idea into words, so it's a little rushed.

Dan’s been infatuated with him since the first time he saw him: long legs, pale skin, and blue (yellow or maybe even green) eyes, black hair swooped to the side that has the tendency to fall down into his eyes. He had been wearing black that day, but then again, that’s the majority of his wardrobe and what he wears most of the time: a leather jacket, black skinny jeans, plain black, skin-tight t-shirt, and black tennis shoes that are scuffed and worn. There are two types of people who wear black—those who blend in and those who stand out—and Phil Lester fits into the latter. He laughs too loud and walks the halls with the type of confidence found in movie stars. With one stare, he’s able to assert his dominance over everyone, and that’s exactly what he did to Dan.

                They met in the hallway. Phil’s hard to miss, standing at over six feet tall and incredibly handsome, but Dan, with his constant need to stay in the shadows and avoid confrontation, found a way. With his head turned down, his eyes looking at his shoes hitting the titled flooring, he managed to walk right into Phil. Phil didn’t have much to say, which was unlike him in the sense that Phil was always talking nonstop, but either way, he told Dan to watch where he was going, his voice low and menacing but lacking its usual passion. He had been laughing just seconds before though, so that may have been why.

                Phil, on the other hand, took longer to crack, and even to this day, Dan’s not sure what Phil’s feelings are, despite the fact that they’ve been together for over a month.

                That one moment in the hallway did, however, spark a chain reaction and suddenly, Dan saw Phil everywhere. He stood out like a sore thumb and he was proud of it, and he made sure Dan noticed him: he talked too loud, walked with heavy footsteps, stoop up tall, and laughed his signature laugh that’s just a few notches too loud. But the most annoying thing Phil Lester did to get Dan Howell’s attention was pick on him, whether it be light enough that Dan could easily mistake it for teasing or full out bullying to the point where Dan would go home crying—Phil did it. But the fact remained that he liked the attention because he had never been given it before.

                And even now, he still likes the attention.

 

* * *

 

Phil’s super sweet in private when they’re at his or Dan’s house. He likes cuddles and lets Dan traces his fingers along Phil’s single tattoo—black spirals and beautiful words that wrap around his arm and tug—and places flower crowns on Dan’s curly hair and feather-light kisses on Dan’s cheeks, dipping down to his neck. Dan’s handled like a piece of fragile china, like something soft and sweet and innocent.

                They’re in Dan’s bed currently, tucked under blankets and wrapped in their own little world. Phil’s arms are wrapped around Dan, keeping him pressed up against the older boy’s chest, chin resting on his shoulder. However, because Dan’s worried that the tiniest sound could destroy it all, break the silence and ruin the moment, he keeps quiet, lets the silence wash over him and allows himself to forget about school tomorrow, replacing it with the thought of Phil’s comforting arms around him.

                Phil’s voice is light when they’re like this, care-free but caring at the same time, and words leave his mouth in a hushed whisper. “Are you still awake?” he asks at half past ten, about the time he usually heads home.

                It’s the same routine every time: Phil comes over to his, they play a game (usually Mario Kart), his mom makes them something to eat, and they cuddle in Dan’s bad for a while and right before Phil leaves, he asks if Dan’s still awake.

                “Yeah,” Dan says, eyes closed. He almost wishes he was asleep because Phil stays when he’s asleep. “Are you leaving?”

                “Yeah, you know I have to be home before eleven on week nights or my mom will kill me.” Actually, Dan knows that this isn’t the truth because Phil’s slept at his house on week nights and his mom doesn’t really care as long as Phil goes to school in the morning, but he doesn’t say this, keeps his mouth shut instead. He knows why Phil tells such blatant lies and he isn’t going to stop him now.

                “Does that mean you’ll sleep over tomorrow?”

                Dan stares at Phil with pleading eyes, ones that he knows make Phil crumble and give in. Phil’s face softens and he kisses Dan once, twice, thrice, little pecks that linger even after Phil’s pulled away.

                “Of course, baby.”

                Phil gets up, pulling the comforter up with him, and Dan watches as Phil plucks Dan’s favorite flower crown—a pastel blue one—off of his desk. Dan had been wearing it earlier when they were playing video games but had taken it off before they climbed in to his bed so he wouldn’t crumple it. Carefully, Phil walks back over to him, and Dan sits up so Phil can place it on his head, their eyes never leaving each other. Phil only does this on days when he’s feeling extra affectionate, and if Phil’s feeling extra affectionate, it’s probably because at school he’s going to be an even worse asshole than normal, so even though Dan knows what’s to come, he blushes lightly and smiles up at Phil, looks at him through his lashes.

                “I love you,” Dan whispers feather-light when the older boy turns to leave.

                Somehow, Phil still manages to hear him and responds, “I love you, too,” with so much sincerity that Dan’s sure that how he acts at school means nothing (and surely Phil loves him and cares about him).

                Phil leaves him with a flower crown on his head, the feeling of a kiss lingering on his lips, and a conclusion that won’t survive the night.

 

* * *

 

Schools a nightmare for everyone involved. (Well actually, Dan’s pretty sure that school is more a sadistic dream for those teachers who probably get off on torturing gets, but he digresses.) Dan has friends to lessen the pain, ones that are closer to acquaintances but he calls them friends to make it sound like he isn’t a loser. Dell is the only one that makes it somewhat enjoyable, and he would actually call her a friend—a best friend to be exact (but then again, she doesn’t have much competition). While Dell it makes it better, however, Phil is the source of his troubles.

                Dell’s the only one who knows he’s dating him and Phil wasn’t too happy about that, but she is his best friend after all.

                At school, Phil hangs out with his friends, a group consisting of two other boys and him who walk around with their heads held high and permanent smirks on their faces. You could say that they are the “bad boys,” but it’s more about appearance than actual actions because, as long as you stay out of their way, they stay out of yours. Unless, of course, you’re Dan Howell.

                It started shortly after they first ran into each other in the hallway and spiraled out of control from there and never really stopped, even after they got together. Mainly, it’s just name calling from Phil, but he watches as his two friends lightly shove Dan, never hard enough to injure Dan but enough to bruise his ego. Phil’s only called him a faggot twice, but his friends do it all the time, saying it over and over again while Dan looks at Phil with eyes meant to remind him about all they have done.

                Phil hates Dell for two reasons from what Dan can tell. First off, he’s constantly on edge that she’s going to spill their secret, which is stupid because Dan trusts her and that’s what should count. Second off, she hates Phil, probably more than he hates her. She hates him for one simple reason: she has this idea—and she’s told it to Dan multiple times—that Phil is pressuring him into staying with Phil, which isn’t the truth. Either way, it’s probably best that Dan doesn’t hang out with Phil at school because then he would have to pick between him and Dell (at least, that’s what he tells himself to keep from feeling down about the fact that Phil always avoids him like the plague).

                Dan’s walking next to Dell when it happens for the first time that day. First he hears the word faggot said in a low whisper, almost taunting him, and then he sees them come up from behind him, smirking and holding back laughter as one guy—Jake—pushes Dan. Phil doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything except laugh.

                Dell shoots him a look and he doesn’t even need to look at it to know what she’s getting at. To her, this is just another reason why Dan deserves better, but she doesn’t understand that this is love and sometimes you have to make sacrifices for those you love.

                Right before they walk away, Phil says, “Fucking faggot.” It stings really badly, but truth be told, Dan would let Phil drag him through hell as long as he got to hold his hand.

 

* * *

“You need to break up with him!” Dell shouts as soon as she closes the door to his bedroom. Originally, Dan was just going to hang out alone until Phil came over, but shortly after the third run in with Phil and his friends, Dell had insisted that she come over to his house right after school for a little chat.

                Phil’s misunderstood, and Dan’s the only one who understands him. He’s not inherently bad, but he’s susceptible to peer pressure, always wanting to fit in and afraid that the true him won’t cut it, so that’s why he goes around acting like he’s so much better than everyone else. It’s not him, but a copy of what it takes to make it in high school.

                “Phil’s a good boyfriend. You just don’t understand.”

                “You’re right! I don’t understand why you would stay with someone who would call you that.”

                “He didn’t mean it.”

                “It doesn’t matter whether or not he meant it; what matters is that you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

                Dan crashes on his bed, red-faced and overflowing with anger. He can’t understand why nobody understands. Phil’s sweet when he’s just with Dan, loving and caring; the older boy isn’t a rude bully.

                “He doesn’t treat me like that,” Dan says, his eyes glued to his favorite flower crown that’s perched on his desk.

                “It sure seems like he does.”

                She says that because she doesn’t know the real Phil, the one who puts flower crowns on Dan’s head, calls him beautiful and cuddles him. The real Phil wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone Dan. The real Phil always kisses Dan after he wins a round of Mario Kart. The real Phil loves him, but if the real Phil loves him, then why does he let his persona bully him?

                “That’s because you don’t know him.” Dan knows just how pathetic he sounds when he says this; even to his own ears, it sounds like he’s excusing Phil’s awful behavior, but he isn’t, not really. He’s just telling her the truth after all—but he’s not even sure anymore and the words just sound like lies even to his own ears.

                “Whatever. When he inevitably breaks your heart, don’t come crying to me.”

 

* * *

 

Dan’s not in the mood when Phil comes over an hour after Dell left, still curled up in a ball with tears streaming down his face. God, he is pathetic, crying over an argument that he clearly won, but maybe he shouldn’t have. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s questioned whether or not he should put up with Phil’s actions at school, but this is the first time he’s ever hesitated to come to a conclusion. There’s no if, and, or but about it—he’s scared that he deserves to be treated better and that he’s so helplessly in love with Phil, causing him to lose sight of himself.

                “What’s wrong, baby?” Phil says, climbing into Dan’s bed, but he refuses to let him under the covers, so Phil lies on top of them, arms wrapped loosely around the younger boy.

                However, Dan refuses to respond, keeps his mouth shut and his eyes facing away from Phil. Heavy breaths escape as he tries in vain to calm himself down, but all of the sudden, faggot is the only word he can hear, circling around in his brain, repeated over and over again by Phil. He doesn’t deserve this—doesn’t deserve to be called such a horrible word by someone who is exactly the same.

                “Come on!” Phil says, sounding exasperated. “Don’t be like this. Is this about what I said earlier in the hallway? You know I was just saying that, baby. I didn’t mean it.” Phil peppers kisses on his neck, but he just pulls away, making it so Phil’s arms fall, no longer wrapped around him.

                “No! You don’t get to call me a faggot and then kiss it better,” Dan shouts, rolls over to face him with a cold, hard stare. “You should have just punched me; it would have hurt a lot less.”

                “Jake and Adam do it all the time, and you never seem bothered.”

                “Because they aren’t my boyfriends,” Dan says, his voice low, eerily so, something that he only does when he’s way beyond pissed. “I don’t even understand why you hang out with them when you know how they treat me.”

                “Baby, they’re my best friends.”

                His voice falls flat, emotionless, and he says, “Just please leave.”

                “Dan—”

                “Please,” Dan begs pathetically. His voice is no longer emotionless; it comes out choked, makes him sound like he’s holding back sobs (which he is).

                Phil moves slowly as he pulls himself out of bed and casts one final look at the flower crown on Dan’s desk before leaving, and Dan can just barely hear the soft sound of Phil crying.

                What happened to yesterday when Dan was so in love (he still is) and willing to put up with anything to keep that love (he isn’t anymore)? All he needed was a wakeup call, an alarm clock going off, to pull him out of his fantasy world, his daydream, and back into reality, but he never asked for this, never asked to face the bitter truth that maybe Phil doesn’t love him like he says he does (because surely if he loved him, he wouldn’t treat him like that).

                It almost feels like a breakup, both of them left crying alone, and Dan kind of wishes it was one.

 

* * *

 

“You were right,” Dan says as soon as he sees Dell first thing in the morning. She’s pulling books out of her locker, but she stops when she hears his voice and turns to look at him.

                “About?”

                “Phil,” he says, shrugging. “I think we’re going to break up.” He tries sounding nonchalant, but he fails, ends up sounding just as heartbroken as he is. “I thought about what you said for a while and you’re right—I deserve better. I guess I was just so blindsided by how I felt about him that I didn’t even stop to think that it wasn’t real.”

                She hugs him right there in the middle of the hallway, a huge smile on her face. “I’m so proud of you!”

                He doesn’t feel like she should be proud because he’s two seconds from taking Phil back and he can feel it.

 

“Dan! Wait up!” Phil shouts as Dan’s walking towards the front doors of the school, ready to leave and go home. He considers not stopping at all, but he’s weak and pathetic and so _fucking_ in love with goddamn Phil Lester, so he stops and waits for Phil to catch up to him.

                “What do you want?” he asks, staring at Phil with harsh eyes and an unrelenting frown.

                “God, Dan, I’m sorry. Okay?”

                “You can’t just say sorry and expect it to be better. I can handle you not wanting to tell people that we’re in a fucking relationship, but I’m not going to stand here and allow you to call me a faggot,” Dan yells, and by now, people are turning to stare at him as his voices gets louder and louder with every word.

                “Can we talk about this at your place?”

                “What? Are you afraid of all of your friends finding out that you’re a fag like me?”

                That shuts him up and Phil closes his mouth, eyes wide like those of a puppy. Dan can feel the older boy staring at him as he walks away, jaw locked and holding back tears. He regrets what he says, but he’s put up with too much to say admit that he regretted them as soon as they left his mouth. Now he’s just as bad as Phil, and in some twisted part of his mind, he convinces himself that if he’s just as bad as Phil, it makes sense that they should be together. He’s fucked.

 

* * *

 

Dan is home alone when the loud knocking starts. His parents had just left ten minutes before to go grocery shopping, and because he has no siblings, that left just him at the house. Typically, on nights like this, Dan would just have Phil come over, but currently their relationship is hanging in the balance and Dan’s fallen on the ground with no one to catch him. However, as soon as the knocking starts, Dan knows it’s Phil because there’s no one else who would come over in the pouring rain right now. He almost considers leaving the older boy to stand out there, but it’s cold and coming down pretty hard, so with a defeated sigh, he gets up from the couch in the living room and opens the door.  

                Phil’s dripping wet in black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that clings to his body and shows off the portion of his tattoo that normally runs under his sleeve.

                “What do you want?” Dan asks, but lets him in anyway.

                “I’m so sorry and I know sorry isn’t going to cut it, but I realize now that I made a big mistake treating you the way I did and if you’ll just give me a second chance—”

                “I’ve already given you multiple chances.”

                “Fine, if you’ll just give me one more chance, I’ll prove to you that I love you so much. I couldn’t care less about Jake and Adam if it means that I’m with you,” Phil pleads, and Dan swears that he’s never heard him sound so broken before.

                “You should probably get changed out of those. I think I still have a few of your jeans here and you can just wear one of my pajama shirts,” Dan says, turning on his feet to head upstairs to his bedroom.

                “Dan.”

                “Goddamn it, Phil. Give me some time to think about it.” Dan doesn’t need to think; he’s known for a while now that as long as Phil anything, he would come crawling back.

                After Phil changes into some clean clothes, Dan falls onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling. “I love you,” he says. “But I really wish I didn’t.”

                “I truly am sorry, Dan. I treated you like shit, dragged you through hell and back, and expected you to not say anything. You deserve better than that.”

                “It’s okay.” Dan motions for Phil to climb into bed next to him, and hesitantly, he does, their sides pressed up against each other.

                “No, it’s not.”

                “Well, it might not be okay right now, but it will be eventually.”


End file.
